


The Thing That Is Not Cuddling

by what_a_dork_fish



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, I don't know why I made Alec kind of jealous but I did, JAQ - Freeform, Mentions of homophobia, Pre-Relationship, THESE FLUFFY DORKS, fluff fluff fluff, it's how they show love, so much cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 20:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10543780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_a_dork_fish/pseuds/what_a_dork_fish
Summary: The one where Q gets thrown out of his parents' house and James and Alec take him in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roseforthethorns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseforthethorns/gifts).



> For mah babes because fluff makes everything better.

James was just coming home from work, exhausted and ready to crash on the couch, when his neighbor’s door flew open. James jumped as a woman’s voice shrieked, “I will  _ not _ have a gay in my house! Out!  _ OUT _ !”

Stumbling over the sill and down the steps, a young man was expelled from the house, clutching a laptop bag to his chest, looking startled—scared—terrified. He spun on the path, mouth open, perhaps to plead, perhaps to cry out, but the woman slammed the door shut, and the boy sagged. The look on his face would’ve been heartbreaking, if James had a heart. He was not dressed for the weather, in just a button-up and cardigan with ugly checked trousers; and then, as if to finish the ruining of the poor lad’s night, the storm that had been threatening all day broke, and rain came pissing down.

James hesitated. He didn’t know the kid, though he’d seen him a few times; he didn’t owe him anything. But even he had a conscience, and it was prodding for him to reach out.

But the boy suddenly straightened, his jaw tightening, anger sparking in his eyes. He spun on his heel and marched down the pavement. James watched him go, impressed, until the rain got under the collar of his jacket, and he ducked inside.

Alec was in the kitchen, humming as he banged pots and utensils in a facsimile of actual cooking. James kicked off his boots and hung up his jacket, padding down the hall to the kitchen, hoping Alec had at least gotten ingredients gathered. James would take over the cooking if he had.

No such luck. Worse, Alec was shirtless under his “Kiss The Cook” apron. James sighed heavily and leaned in the doorway. “So are you going to cook or are you just making noise?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Alec turned and grinned his wolf-grin. “I texted you asking what you wanted, but you never answered,” he replied.

“You did not.”

“You’re right. I was too busy shagging your girl.”

James shrugged. “We broke up last night anyway,” he lied smoothly. They hadn’t, but they were going to. Not that he gave much of a shit. She’d been eyeing Alec from the beginning. “Why do you keep having sex with my girlfriends?”

“Why do you keep having sex with my boyfriends?” Alec shot back, grin undiminished.

“Touché.” James smiled back, then stepped forward, holding out his hand. “Give me that spatula. I’ll make hamburgers.”

Later, while they were watching BBC News, Alec set down his burger, chewed vigorously so he could swallow his too-big-mouthful easier, then told James, “I’m glad you weren’t here, and not just because of the shagging. You know how my room is next to that kid’s next door? Well, I could hear his mum shouting at him.”

“What’d you hear?” James asked.

“Something about him being unnatural. She threatened to sell all his shit if he didn’t “take it back”. She was making such a racket, I almost went over to tell her to shut it. You would’ve told her to, I know it. That’s why I was in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, she kicked him out.”

Alec stared at James. “No way.”

James nodded, mopping up some ketchup with the corner of his burger. “I saw it.”

“Bloody hell. And you didn’t bring him in?”

Alec, James thought with a sigh, was quite a mother-hen after a good shag. “No, Alec, I didn’t. For one, he doesn’t know us. Why would he accept help from strangers? Second, why stay so close to a place he’d just been thrown out of? He’s probably at a friend’s. He’s not our problem.”

Alec frowned, then sighed. “You’re right, as usual,” he commented wryly. Then, “Hey, wanna watch Doctor Who?”

~~~\0/~~~

It was the middle of the night. James and Alec had fallen asleep on the couch, doing that thing that was  _ not _ cuddling, after downing lots and lots of alcohol and watching a little too much Doctor Who. The storm had only grown worse, rattling the windows in its fury.

The innocent sound of the doorbell jerked both students awake, and they lay on the couch together, completely still. Alec’s breath tickled the back of James’ neck. (Alec always wanted to be big spoon.)

Another ring of the bell. Cautiously, James sat up, then stood, and padded to the front door.

When he opened it, a gust of wind drove rain right into his face, and the pale, dark-haired figure on the step almost fell inside. Instead, they caught themselves on the doorframe, and asked very politely, if a bit loudly so as to be heard over the roar of the storm, “May I come in?”

“Yeah, sure,” James replied, and stepped aside. In tumbled the boy from next door, shivering in what was obviously a borrowed raincoat, his glasses streaky and his hair streaming, clutching his laptop bag. He looked impossibly young, but when he drew himself up, he was only an inch or two shorter than James.

“Sorry to drop by so unexpectedly,” the boy began stiffly, “I—“

James held up his hand, and the boy cut himself off. “It is far too late at night for being pleasant,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound too stroppy. “You’re the kid who was kicked out earlier, yeah?”

“Um—yes.”

“What, did no one else want to take you in?”

The uncertain, slightly embarrassed look on the boy’s face said it all for him.

“Right,” James sighed. “First, off with that coat. I’ll find you a towel.”

“Who is it?” Alec called groggily, as the boy blinked owlishly at James.

“The kid from next door,” James called back, starting for the linen closet. “Show some decency, put a shirt on.”

Alec groaned and flopped down on the couch again.

When James returned to the front hall, the boy had removed the coat, and his shoes, showing brilliantly-colored argyle socks and that same old-man cardigan. James sighed quietly, but handed over the towel.

“Thank you,” the boy murmured, then plucked the glasses from his face. “Can you hold these for a moment?”

While the boy rubbed his hair briskly with the towel, James dried his glasses on a corner of James’ shirt. Alec had sat up again by that point, and was watching the proceedings with sleep-fuzzed interest.

The boy wrapped the towel around his thin shoulders and James handed back the glasses. “My name’s Q,” the boy introduced himself, not quite as stiffly.

“Bond, James Bond. The animal is Alec Trevelyan.”

“I heard that.”

“You were meant to.”

Q smiled a little, nervous and unsure of his welcome. James beckoned, and led the way into the sitting room. He sat on the couch again, at the opposite end as Alec, and waved Q into the more comfortable of the two chairs. Q perched on the edge of the seat, like an anxious little bird still unsure if what it’s looking at is a snake or worm.

“Are you two…?” he began, then trailed off, blushing.

“No,” James answered, easily guessing what Q was about to ask. “I don’t like blonds.”

Alec kicked him.

“Oh,” said Q. He seemed unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed. James saw the flash of miserable longing before the lad put on a brave face and asked, “Can I stay here tonight? I have to gather my things tomorrow.”

James and Alec nodded in unison. “You can have Alec’s room,” James offered. “It’s the warmest.”

“I even cleaned up in there,” Alec added with a smirk. James thumped the bottom of his foot.

“Thank you,” Q said quietly.

~~~\0/~~~

James woke yet again barely three hours after laying down to sleep, because there was a noise from just next door to him. At first he thought their temporary housemate was wanking off, but no, this sounded more like…

James was out of bed and going to his door before he actually thought about it. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, and considered.

It would be rude to burst into the room and demand to know why Q was crying. And it wasn’t any of James’ business. Besides, he could probably guess why. So he turned back to his bed, reluctantly, and decided it would be better to just see if he could sleep through it.

Of course Alec had to open James’ door and murmur, “Are you gonna ask or shall I?”

James sighed and exited his room. He and Alec stood before the closed door to what had been Alec’s room, uncomfortable with the way the squeaks and whimpers were growing in volume, despite obvious attempts to strangle them down. After sharing an uneasy glance, Alec knocked softly on the door, and James opened it after a moment.

Their houseguest was turned towards the wall, blanket over his head, and stifling himself well, but he still shook with repressed tears. James felt a surge of anger towards whatever was making this poor boy so sad, and he saw Alec grimace out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey, Q.” James stepped softly forward, and sat ever so carefully on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Q answered, the sharpness cut by his snuffles.

Automatically, James reached out and began to rub Q’s arm lightly over the blanket. “Is it your mum?”

After a moment, Q shook his head.

“Is it that you’ve got nowhere else to crash for the night?”

Another negative shake.

“What is it?”

“…I miss my computer,” Q whispered finally.

James didn’t pause his light rubbing, but his eyebrow rose. “Your computer?” he repeated in a neutral tone.

“Everything would be fine if I had my computer,” Q explained, voice wobbling dangerously. “I love my laptop, but it’s not the same.”

An idea came to James. He smiled slowly. “This is the time of year your parents go to the seaside, yeah?” he asked innocently.

“They’re leaving tomorrow,” Q answered automatically, sounding even more miserable; then he sat up quite suddenly, and stared at James, wide-eyed. “I can’t break in!” he blurted, “That’s—that’s—“

“Wrong?” James guessed, grin widening. Q was quite smart, or at least he had the same mindset as James.

“What’s wrong is how they threw you out, malyutka,” Alec rumbled, coming forward to stand by the bed and crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s their right, since it’s their house. And I’m seventeen, not a baby,” Q snapped back.

Alec looked taken aback for a moment, then barked a laugh. “Of course you’re not, kotyonok. But throwing their own child out into the rain is not their right.” Alec’s face turned grim; his own parents had turned him out at the tender age of fourteen for kissing James on the cheek. James’ foster mother hadn’t cared, and had taken Alec in. Six years later, Alec had not forgiven his parents, and neither had James.

Q looked like he wanted to say something, but looking between the two older men, he decided not to. Then he took a breath and said firmly, “I’ll wait. I can go to the nearest shelter or hostel.”

“You sure?” James asked, beginning to frown. He had a friend at school, Eve, who was homeless and hated every second of it. “Where will you go when you have your computer?”

“I’ll have enough money for a small flat by then,” Q answered. He seemed very sure of himself. “I have a… part-time job that pays pretty well. I can still go to school, too.”

James and Alec shrugged in unison. “Your call, Q,” James acknowledged. “Think you can sleep?”

“Yes. I’ll be fine.” Q hesitated, then looked down at the blanket covering him and whispered, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, kotyonok.” Alec tapped James’ shoulder, and the two left Q to sleep. They retired to James’ room, and talked quietly for a while. Alec fell asleep with his head pillowed on James’s leg; James stayed up, thinking.

~~~\0/~~~

“Um… excuse me…”

“Huh?” James grunted blearily, blinking away sleep. Q was in the doorway, staring. James was stretched out on his side, and Alec was clamped to James, face pressed to his chest.

Also, James’ alarm was going off.

“…SHIT!”

He rolled over top of Alec and scrambled to his feet, lunging for his clothes, set out last night in preparation for just such an eventuality as this. Alec grumbled as James ripped free, but ultimately fell back asleep. James threw him a glare, but he was already pulling on clean clothes. There was no time for a shower.

He only remembered Q in the doorway when he whirled, shrugging on his jacket. “What?” he snapped, then took a deep breath and asked more civilly, “Do you need something?”

“N-no,” Q stuttered, moving out of James’ way. “I thought you said you two weren’t, um—“

“We’re not,” James threw over his shoulder, already halfway down the stairs. “Alec is afraid of the dark.”

Alec did not answer, meaning he was still asleep. If he weren’t, he’d be protesting vehemently. James shoved on his shoes, grabbed his bag, and was out the door.

~~~\0/~~~

Alec texted James around noon:  _ I let him stay. _

James rolled his eyes as he bit into his sandwich.  _ He’s a teenager. Don’t try and shag him. _

_ Who said I wanted to shag him? He’s cute. And he’s got devastating puppy-eyes. You’ll see when you come home _ .

James grumbled, but continued eating.

He was young, but he had already earned a lunch break. He hurried, though, and was done in time for the lunch rush. Not that there was much of a “rush” at The Savoy; he just called it that as a holdover from his days in other, less booked restaurants. He was still only assistant to the head pastry chef, but the pastry chef was old and wanted to retire. The other assistants were sure it would be them; James was equally sure it wouldn’t.  _ He _ didn’t expect to be chosen, he just thought someone would be hired from outside to take the old woman’s position.

He worked quietly, tirelessly, and brilliantly. He was graced with many approving smiles and nods, from everyone. He chafed and longed for something,  _ anything _ , to get out of this.

But nothing happened. So he left when his shift ended, and went home with a head full of muzzy half-thoughts. The one solid thought was that surely Q would be gone by the time he got home. This was… a disappointing thought. Q had seemed like a good kid. James wanted to be sure he was okay. Maybe Alec had extracted his phone number.

James wasn’t sure how he got home, but he did so without incident. The car outside Q’s family’s house was gone; they’d left sometime during the day. James yawned as he unlocked the door to his and Alec’s house and stepped inside.

“Alec?” he called wearily, kicking off his shoes. “It’s your turn to cook and I’m bloody—“

A sound like a hammer on brick, and a laugh from upstairs. “One more time!” Alec could be heard to cackle. “This stuff’s old, a few more solid blows should do it.”

James was already halfway up the stairs, socked feet slipping on the wood floor when he reached the landing and skidded to a halt outside Alec’s room.

Inside was a  _ mess _ . The furniture was shoved willy-nilly away from the adjoining wall, where the plaster had been destroyed, showing the brick beneath; and Alec and Q were standing in the midst of the plaster-dust, both grinning maniacally. Q was holding a sledgehammer that had to have come from the other neighbor’s tool-stash, and as James watched, he lifted it, aimed carefully, and swung with all his might. The bricks cracked and jolted, and Alec laughed again.

“And  _ what _ the  _ fuck _ are you two doing?” James growled, low and dangerous.

The other two whirled around, smiles falling away. Q actually looked scared.

“We’re knocking through,” Alec explained warily.

“It’s easier than ferrying everything up and down stairs and out in the open,” Q added nervously.

James fixed them both with a glare he’d learned from his foster mother. When he was sure they were both feeling appropriately ashamed, he fought his way past the muddle of furniture and stalked forward, hand out. “Hand over the hammer. I want a go.”

Alec and Q broke into nearly identical grins.

There followed a  _ smashing _ evening, and when they had a hole big enough, Q wriggled through into the room that was once his and began passing treasured possessions back to his new friends. Electronics came first: two computer towers; three monitors; an NES, a Playstation 1, and a Sega Genesis; a lava lamp; and a small box of CDs. Then came clothes, some so frumpy or ugly even Alec raised an eyebrow. Next were school items, textbooks and exercise books and the like. After that were sentimental items, like a thirty-year-old teddy bear, a baby-book, and a rock.

Finally, Q climbed back through the hole in the wall and sighed as he brushed himself off. “Now what?” he asked. “Call a repair person?”

“An excellent idea,” James declared, then grinned. “Tomorrow. For now—Alec, up to another night on the couch?”

“No,” Alec pouted. James rolled his eyes. “I can’t sleep on that thing too much, it hurts my back!”

“I was just gonna sleep at my friend Barry’s house,” Q broke in tentatively.

James and Alec gave him offended looks. “My snoring wasn’t  _ that _ loud, was it?” Alec asked, miffed.

“No, no, that’s not it,” Q assured him hastily. “It’s just, we don’t really know each other, and… and…”

“But you came here last night,” James reminded him.

“Because—“ Q cut himself off and blushed.

There was an awkward silence. Finally, Q took a deep breath and, speaking to the floor, explained, “I like you two. You’re politer than my friends. And—I knew you wouldn’t ask questions. Thank you for that. But I have answers all prepared now, so I think I can withstand Barry for a while. As long as his parents don’t find out.”

James and Alec shared a look. “At least let us feed you before you leave,” James suggested. “We might have something edible left in the freezer.”

“No, I wouldn’t want to impose—“

James snorted. Alec said incredulously, “Impose? Q, we just knocked a hole in the wall for you. It’s not imposing.”

Q looked at them both, and for a moment it seemed like he was going to cry—then he set his chin and said, “Thank you. Both of you. But I’ll do the cooking. Alec’s breakfast was shit.”

Alec pouted, and James threw back his head and laughed.

~~~\0/~~

James and Q ended up cooking together, while Alec watched and gave opinions. When the food was done, they went to the sitting room and all snuggled together on the couch, Q in the middle and looking rather confused by the proceedings. James and Alec pretended not to notice. If he didn’t like it, he’d tense up or say so. The way he’d back-sassed Alec while cooking had shown that he had a sharp tongue and wasn’t afraid to use it, now that he was more comfortable.

They watched the news, but after a while Q began to bristle, and make harsh (and accurate) remarks. Alec, usually hard to rile, began to agree and add his two cents; and then James added a cutting remark or two; and then they had to shut off the tv and all three stew in wrathful silence for a moment, Q actually shaking with anger.

“I hate the news,” he muttered.

“Let’s watch Sharpe instead,” Alec suggested, clenching and unclenching his fist.

James gave Alec a wary look—Sharpe was not something they should watch when one of them was angry, let alone both—but instead of mentioning this, he got up and found their DVDs.

Q noted the resemblance between Sharpe and Alec, and Alec laughed a little, bitterly.

“My father,” he explained. “Mum always said we looked alike enough to be brothers.”

Q nodded, but said nothing more.

When they finished Sharpe, they watched Doctor Who, because Q requested it; he spent the whole episode lecturing on how none of the gadgets would actually work and all the ways they would backfire. James and Alec listened, a rapt audience, encouraging him silently, and Q talked on. When the episode was done, he continued talking, flushed slightly, gesturing expressively, leaning against James’ shoulder and with one leg slung over Alec’s. He only stopped when he glanced at the clock and realized it was nudging midnight.

“I should go,” he said, making absolutely no move to do so.

“You can have my bed again,” Alec offered, grinning. “I’ll kick James out of his room.”

“Nah, my room doesn’t have a giant hole in the wall,” James disagreed calmly, and smiled down at Q. “You can have my bed. It’s my turn for the couch anyway.”

Q nodded, but, again, made no move to get up. James and Alec shared an amused glance; then James hauled Q into his lap, making him squeak, and Alec swung Q’s legs up into  _ his _ lap. Q looked absolutely mortified, and held stiff as steel until James began rubbing his hand up and down Q’s spine soothingly. Then he began to relax again.

Alec scooted closer to press against James’ side, still holding Q’s legs hostage. “We could just puppy-pile,” he suggested casually.

“You just don’t want to be cold,” James accused.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re warm.”

Q smiled, a little nervously. “I’d prefer a bed,” he commented.

“No puppy-pile?” Alec half-pouted.

“No puppy-pile, thanks all the same.”

“I think you scared him,” James told Alec, then, turning back to Q, “Did he scare you? He scared me, too, the first time he wanted to puppy-pile with me and my girlfriend.”

“You scared him first!” Alec accused, “Dragging him onto your lap like that, you monster.”

“Did I?” James asked Q.

“A-a little,” Q answered.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No, it’s… okay.” Q looked between them both, and he looked suddenly so small that James automatically put a hand on his shoulder to pull him in for a hug, before remembering that he mustn’t scare him further.

And then he remembered that he doesn’t just  _ do _ that. He doesn’t drag people onto his lap, doesn’t hug them, doesn’t help them destroy property and steal back what was once theirs. But he’d done it for Q, the little slip of a seventeen-year-old.

Something was wrong.

James sighed and let go of Q’s shoulder. “Well, to bed with us all, then,” he declared. “We’ve all got shit to do tomorrow.”

~~~\0/~~~

Q was bewildered.

The sheets and blankets smelled like James’s musk, and were heavy and warm. His borrowed pajamas were Alec’s, and soft to the touch. It was so strange… he trusted them so much, with very little reason. True, they hadn’t hurt him (yet, his traitorous mind whispered), but what basis did he have?

He rolled over on his back, closed his eyes, and tried to parse his emotions. He was glad they hadn’t thrown him out… troubled that he wasn’t scared of them… happy that he was safe…

Happy? Safe?

His eyes sprang open and his hands clenched on the blanket. No, not happy; relieved. But… safe? How did he know he was safe?

Well… Alec had been a bit frightening in the morning, but he was all puppy, not the wolf he pretended to be. James was… hm. James seemed like a foil to Alec. Perhaps a cat to Alec’s puppy? Q smiled very faintly at his own silly thoughts. To be fair, it was quite late. He’d have to spend more time with them to be sure of them.

Alright then. He’d ask if he can stay a little longer, at least until he knew what they got out of this.

He rolled over, snuggled down under the blankets, stroked the fabric of his sleep-shirt one more time, and closed his eyes.

When he woke, it was to a soft knock on his door. He sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes, yawning behind his hand.

“Q? You awake?” James called. “Alec’s gone out to get breakfast.”

“Oh. That’s nice of him,” Q answered, sliding out of bed and stumbling over to open the door. James looked unusually nice, wearing a suit and smelling of some woody, smoky cologne. “Do you have a job interview today?”

James smiled slightly. “No. I’m going to visit my foster mother today. She prefers it when I show proper respect. I have time to eat with you two though.”

Q nodded, frowning a little. Then he smiled, inwardly cursing at how shy it felt. “What’s he getting?” he asked.

“Hopefully something from the bakery down the street. You have school today?”

“Yes. What time is it?”

“Six o’clock. Thought you’d like some extra time. Towels are in the cupboard in the bathroom, if you need a shower,” James offered, jerking his thumb down the hall. Q nodded vigorously, and James grinned.

“I still have dust in my hair,” Q sighed.

“Hmm, are you sure it’s not dandruff?” James inquired, eyeing Q’s truly impressive bed-head. Q scowled, but before he could retort, the front door opened and slammed closed.

“JAAA-AAAMES!” Alec shouted, “That pretty red-head asked about you again!”

James rolled his eyes and called back, “Did you tell her to sod off like last time?”

“Of course not!” But Alec didn’t sound very sincere.

“Eat or shower first?” James asked Q.

“Eat,” Q decided.

“Come on, then, let’s see what he brought.”

Alec seemed to have bought the whole bakery. He’d covered the whole table with a layer of pastries, with two cups of coffee and one of tea of some kind. Q stared. James walked straight over and grabbed a scone, letting out a perfectly indecent moan of pleasure when he bit into it.

“Always the best,” he mumbled around the still-hot pastry, and grabbed one of the coffees.

“No, the danishes are the best,” Alec argued, snagging a cream cheese danish and taking a huge bite. “Dig in, Q,” he said, voice muffled by the mouthful.

Q chose a jam doughnut and nibbled it, surprised at how delicious it was. He ate it quickly, then picked up a scone, ignoring James’ wounded look. He’d get over it.

Q’s nibbling slowed, as he thought about his certainties. How did he know James wouldn’t be angry at him? Well, it was just a scone. But Father had always been so very adamant about who took what at the breakfast table, and Mother had gone along with it because she liked having Q’s muffins…

“You alright, Q?”

“Fine,” he mumbled, and devoured the scone, grabbing a chocolate muffin in defiance of his memories. Chocolate always made everything better.

When all three students had stuffed themselves, Q took a shower. He had to borrow soap and shampoo, but that was alright. The soap was foreign, he could smell it; and the shampoo was coconut, an odd choice for two strapping lads like James and Alec. But Q liked it.

His hair was still slightly damp as he exited the bathroom, clad in his own clothes, but other than that he felt… good. A full stomach, a hot shower, clean clothes…

And when he gathered his school things and came downstairs, he found Alec clinging to James like a limpet as James cleaned up the crumbs of their repast.

“Noooo, Jaa-aaames,” Alec mock-moaned, “Don’t leave meee.”

“I’m not leaving you,” James replied calmly, sweeping up the last crumbs. “I just have to talk to M. You can find your own damn ride to the shop. Or take the motorcycle.”

“She’ll eat you aliiiive.”

“She will not. Now let go, I have to throw these away.”

Alec didn’t, so James was forced to shuffle to the kitchen with his friend still attached to his back. Q smiled, finding something quite sweet in the way they interacted. James hadn’t even tried to push Alec away.

“Do you need a ride to school?”

Q shook his head. “I’ll take the bus in, thank you.” He’d been saying thank you quite a lot lately. “Where do you two go to school?”

“I’m at Le Cordon Bleu,” James replied, the French rolling off his tongue perfectly, “And this fool is apprenticed to a welder of some renown. Get off of me, Alec, you’re rumpling my suit.”

“You’re always so worried about your clothes,” Alec complained, but let go and pulled on James’ shoulder to turn him so he faced Alec, who began straightening his jacket and tie expertly. James returned the favor, and now Q could see that Alec was wearing a button-down and tie that matched James’.

“I thought you said you weren’t together,” he blurted.

The two older men looked at him, amused, and Q flushed.

“We’ve been friends since we were in nappies,” James replied. “We’re way too close to be anything else.”

“We tried dating, didn’t work out,” Alec added. James shot him a nasty look, probably hoping to leave out that part of the story. Alec just smiled and patted James’ chest. “Go appease the dragon, Jamesy. I’ll take Q to school.”

“That really isn’t necessary--”

“We insist,” both of them said firmly, and that was that.

~~~\0/~~~

Alec almost laughed when Q balked. “I can’t ride a motorcycle,” Q protested. “I can barely ride a regular bike.”

“Don’t worry, just hold on and lean where I lean.” Alec tossed him the extra helmet, and Q caught it expertly. “Now, where’s your school again?”

“They’re going to make fun of me for years,” Q muttered, but told Alec where to go and strapped on the helmet. Then he climbed on carefully, arms tight around Alec’s waist. The other grinned to himself before flicking down his visor and starting the bike. He heard a squeak in his ear from Q, and then they were off.

James was good on a motorcycle, but Alec was better. He wove in and out of traffic deftly, glad to feel that Q was mastering his reflexes and following Alec’s movements. He may claim not to know how to ride, but he was a quick learner.

When they pulled up at the school, Q carefully pried himself off Alec and took off the helmet. “Thank you for the ride,” he said, and got off the bike stiffly. Already, a flock of youngsters was gathering, staring at their little scene.

Alec flipped up his visor and grinned again. “No problem. Be good, kotyonok. I’ll pick you up after school.”

“That really isn’t necessary,” Q protested, but weakly. Alec leveled a Look at him, and Q sighed. “Fine. Just stop calling me that.”

“Of course,” Alec replied cheerfully, not meaning it one bit. He was always amused by the way Q’s face scrunched in annoyance when Alec called him names. “ Do svidaniya!”

Alec kicked the bike back into life and zoomed away, still smiling a little.

He wasn’t smiling by the time he reached the metal shop where he worked. He was thoughtful, which got him an odd look from his fellow apprentice, Sven.

“<<Why aren’t you smiling?>>” Sven asked in Norwegian.

“<<Because I have a new housemate and it’s a little weird,>>” Alec replied in the same language. “<<He’s a fragile little guy, but I think I can keep from breaking him long enough for him to get his own place.>>”

Sven nodded. “<<Boss is looking for you.>>”

“<<Thanks.>>”

Their boss, Josephine, was designing what seemed to be a gate. Alec peered over her shoulder discreetly, until she sighed and said in heavily accented English, “You had better have a good reason for being late.”

“Sorry, Josey. I was taking my housemate to school,” he chirruped, and grinned as she swiveled on her stool to eye him.

“Doesn’t he have his own car?” she demanded. “That beautiful silver Aston?”

“No, you’re thinking of James. We’ve got a guest who’ll be staying with us for a while. He didn’t have any other way except the bus, and, well…” Alec shrugged. Josephine didn’t like buses. She would understand that part.

Indeed, she wrinkled her nose and sighed deeply. “Alright, fine. You are staying late, though.”

“Actually, I was hoping I could leave early, to pick him up and take him home. Then I’ll come back and work more.” He put on his best pleading expression, which worked on everyone but James, and Josephine laughed.

“Alright, you puppy. You can do that. But tomorrow he rides the bus, eh? I need my best worker to be reliable.”

Alec grinned again. “Thank, Josey.”

~~~\0/~~~

“So who was that guy?” Barry demanded.

“My neighbour,” Q replied, writing the code for a particularly nasty virus that he was going to sell to MI6 for a ridiculous amount of money. “One of my neighbours, actually. I’m staying with them for a while.”

“I thought you said you were gonna stay with me,” Barry pouted.

Q looked up at him, surprised by the jealousy. “Yes, well… I didn’t want to impose on you, and they kind of insisted,” Q said. “Plus they gave me doughnuts this morning.”

“And you can never resist the doughnuts,” Barry sighed.

“Exactly,” Q agreed, smiling just a little. He wouldn’t tell Barry about the cuddles. That would just seem creepy. Although they hadn’t felt creepy at the time…

Class began. Barry hurried to his own seat. Q sat up straighter and pulled out his textbook. Time to learn.

At lunch, he was cornered by a mob of his peers, all of whom wanted to know who the handsome stranger on the cool bike had been. Q felt distinctly uncomfortable, having all these questions shoved at him, but he took a breath and answered as well as he could.

“He’s one of my neighbors. I’m staying with him and his housemate while my parents are gone. No, I don’t know why they wouldn’t just leave me the keys like usual. I think they forgot. His name is Alec, and the other one is James.”

“Wait, Alec Trevelyan and James Bond?” one of the girls asked with a gasp.

“Um, yes,” Q answered. “How did you--”

“My mum said not to trust ‘em,” she continued in a rush, “Because they’re poly--poly--whatever that word is that means they sleep with multiple partners.”

“Polyamorous?” someone else guessed. “Polysexual?”

“Whatever,” the first girl snapped, waving her hand to show that it was irrelevant. “Anyway, you better be careful they don’t flirt with you because that means--”

“What’s all the fuss about?” asked a teacher curiously, and the entire group went silent.

Except Barry.

“Q moved in with a pair of pervs,” popped out of his mouth.

“They’re not pervs!” Q snapped, glowering fiercely. “They’ve been nothing but kind, and it doesn’t matter what their sexual or romantic orientation is.”

The teacher, Mr. Tanner, raised an eyebrow. “Who are they?” he asked carefully.

“Alec Trevelyan and James Bond,” said the girl who was trying to warn Q.

Mr. Tanner blinked, then began to laugh. The students all stared, aghast.

“Ah, those two!” Mr. Tanner chuckled. “I remember them. Unholy terrors, the both of them. Straight-A students, though. You’ve nothing to worry about,” he told Q. “They’re mischievous, but they’re good boys. Loyal as mastiffs. And they are  _ not _ pervs.” This last to Barry, who flushed and looked at his toes.

“Thank you, Mr. Tanner,” Q said politely, shooting a triumphant glance at the girl, who scowled at him.

“You’re welcome. Now, shouldn’t you all be eating lunch?”

Reminded of the state of their stomachs, the students ran for their tables.

~~~\0/~~~

James rang the doorbell and straightened his tie for the eighth time. He wanted to be especially impeccable today. He was going to ask his foster mother if it was alright for him to use his inheritance to fix the wall, and also inform her of their new housemate.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t think of Q as a guest. Maybe because he fit so nicely. Augh, he must remember to refer to him as their guest, lest his foster mother take exception.

The butler opened the door, gazing sternly at James. James smirked in return, playing the cheeky bugger to the nines.

“Hello, Timothy,” he greeted. “Is M in?”

“She is,” Timothy replied stiffly.

“May I come in and see her?”

“She said not to be disturbed.”

“Which means she knows I’m coming. Let me in, Timothy, for old time’s sake.”

Timothy sighed long-sufferingly and stood aside. James flashed a charming smile and hopped inside.

His foster mother was rich. A combination of birth status, marriage, and skillful manipulation of investments had left her with piles of money. Supposedly she was retired, but James had reason to suspect that she still worked closely with MI6. The result of this wealth was that her home was always in mode, and James looked around curiously as he trudged up the steps to M’s study. She’d updated since he’d last been here; everything was clean lines and organically minimalist, despite the age of the house itself. M often hosted gatherings for important people; and appearances were everything to them.

He knocked on the door to the study.

“Go away,” M called sharply, voice muffled by the door.

“But mum, it’s me, James,” James called back, tone sickly-sweet and calculated exactly to irritate M enough for her to pay attention.

“I am not your mother. Come in.”

James opened the door and entered the study, breathing a little easier here. M’s study hadn’t changed in over forty years; or so he had been told. He liked it. Even though half of his memories here were of terror, anger, or guilt, the other half were of joy, relief, and happiness. Here was where he’d been punished innumerable times; here was where he received the best news of his life. And there, sitting behind her desk, silver-white head bent, with that fucking porcelain bulldog before her, was his foster mother, M.

He knew her real name, of course. But it was so much easier to just call her by the letter she’d given him when he’d first been brought here.

“I am not your mother,” she had said, “But you don’t have to call me by name.”

“So I can’t call you mum?”

“No. But you can call me M.”

James strode forward, rounded the desk, and bent down to kiss M’s cheek. As usual, he felt her twitch; he could never tell if she found such gestures annoying or touching.

“What do you want, you scoundrel?” she drawled, finishing her letter and setting it aside.

“Advice.” He went back around and flopped in one of the two chairs opposite the desk. Oh how he wished Alec were in the other. “You see, there was an… accident, and now part of the wall in Alec’s room is knocked out. How should I pay for getting it fixed?”

M raised her head, folded her hands atop her desk, and fixed James with a steely look. “That isn’t all, is it?” she asked dryly.

James smiled charmingly. “When is it ever? We have a guest. The neighbour boy.”

M ticked one eyebrow upwards. “Why?” she asked.

“Because his parents kicked him out and no one else would take him.”

“How old is he?”

“Seventeen.”

“Hmm. What do you want me to do about it?”

“Nothing. I just thought you should know. How should I go about fixing the wall?”

M sighed. “Hire a mason,” she told James bluntly. “Use your savings. Save your inheritance.”

“How’d you know I was going to ask about that?” James asked, surprised.

“Why else would you be here?” M retorted. She gazed at James levelly; he stared back, innocently. The stare-off continued for several minutes, before James began to feel silly and broke eye-contact to look at the bulldog.

“When are you going to get rid of that thing?” he asked.

“Never. Now, tell me the real reason you wanted to let me know about your new housemate.”

James repressed a sigh. He hadn’t really thought this part through. She knew James and Alec were rather… not secretive, but something like it. They didn’t let people in easily. They tended to avoid any kind of relationship, other than the one they had with each other, which didn’t really count. So it was odd that James had looked at that boy standing in the rain and felt a surge of protectiveness that he hadn’t even noticed at the time.

“I don’t know who to ask,” he hedged as he thought. “It’s very strange…”

“You’re stalling,” M noted flatly.

“Yes.”

“James, you are far too old for flights of fancy. If you have grand plans of integrating the lad into your life, I urge you to stop and think.” Her gaze sharpened as James bristled, and opened his mouth to retort. “And don’t tell me you  _ have _ been thinking about it, because I won’t believe you for a second.”

He settled back in his chair, sullenly. “What advice do you have while I think on it?” he asked, the sullenness creeping into his voice.

M never smiled, but she did have a certain satisfied air that seemed to be her equivalent. “Glad to see you’re willing to be reasonable. Here is what I say you should do…”


	2. Chapter 2

Q was going through his things, sneaking through the hole in the wall to search for more important items that he had left. Alec had already called and booked a couple repairwomen to help fix the wall. James was stretched out on the couch, hands tucked behind his head, thinking.

He wanted Q to stick around a little longer. Mostly he wanted to be sure the lad would land on his feet. What kind of job would a kid have that paid enough for him to be able to find a place in a week? Because that was the timeframe Q had given them when they all arrived home at roughly the same time that day; he would have his own flat in a week, more or less, and they were welcome to come visit, and help him find furniture. He had seemed excited by the prospect.

And James… wasn’t.

Oh, he was happy for Q, absolutely. But he was suspicious. Q had another year before he could have his own place. Unless he’d lied about how old he was… but why lie? To protect himself? From what? Augh, this was making James far too tense.

“Hey.”

His eyes slid away from the ceiling to see Alec standing beside him, arms crossed, scowling him. “You’re thinking too hard again,” Alec accused.

“Am not,” James replied calmly.

“Are too.” Alec sat on James’ thighs quite suddenly. James grunted, sighed, and reached up to tug Alec’s arm. The smug bastard immediately swung his feet up and stretched out on his side on top of James. James wrapped an arm around Alec’s waist. A bit of wiggling, and they found comfortable positions.

“Apparently this means we’re dating,” Alec mentioned nonchalantly.

James snorted. “I don’t think so.”

“Awww, Jamesy, don’t you love me?”

“No.”

“Um.”

James and Alec raised their heads, to see Q standing in the doorway with his laptop, looking uncomfortable. James could’ve sworn he saw a flash of longing on Q’s face. Maybe that’s why he beckoned imperiously; and maybe that’s why Q actually obeyed, standing over the two of them with a shy expression.

“I have something to show you,” he started, and jumped as James grasped his arm.

“Come hug,” James commanded.

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

Q took a breath, held it, frowned, then sighed explosively, set his laptop down on the coffee table, and flopped down on top of James, his back to Alec so he could still reach said laptop. James smiled smugly and wrapped his free arm around Q. He could feel Alec do the same. Then he turned his head to watch Q type rapidly with one hand.

He froze.

“Q,” Alec said, “Did you just hack your school’s database.”

“It’s not particularly hard,” Q replied absently, relaxing in their arms. “I need to change my age. I wanted to show you, so you’d know why I’m suddenly listed as eighteen everywhere you look.”

“Why would it matter if we knew?” James asked curiously. After the initial shock, he was intrigued. What else could Q do with computers?

“Because I’m going to need your help finding an appropriate location in which to settle,” Q answered. Now his typing had slowed too, almost imperceptibly. He snuggled further into James and back into Alec. “I can’t have you giving me away.”

James grinned and Alec chuckled. “You know what, kotyonok? You’re a scary little bugger.”

“Thank you.”

Q showed them how to hack almost every database he was in, and how to have cards reissued with the new age on them; “It will only take a week for them to mail it to this address. My parents won’t care, they’ll assume I’m trying to get a place of my own--which I am.” He showed them sites neither of them had known existed, and explained why they were important. It was like he just wanted to talk to someone about what he was doing. And he seemed cold. He certainly huddled into James and Alec’s warmth and didn’t try to get free.

James’ ribs were beginning to protest, and his legs were falling asleep, when Q finally yawned. “Alright, bedtime,” James grunted, jostling both Q and Alec a little to wake them up. “Who wants couch?”

“Why don’t we all just use the fucking bed?” Alec grumbled, hiding his face in James’ shoulder. “Then no one has to have a sore back.”

“Good idea,” Q murmured sleepily.

James craned his neck to look down at the dark fluff beneath his chin, amused. Just last night Q had protested a puppy-pile, and now he wanted to do the thing that was not cuddling? “Sure you won’t regret it in the morning?” James asked, because he had to.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Q retorted, raising his head to look down his nose at James, mouth set in a stubborn line. “I’m more than capable of finding my way back here to the couch if it gets uncomfortable.”

“True.” James grinned. “But you’ve never had Alec the Octopus latch onto you while still asleep.”

“I’m not that bad!” Alec protested.

“Suuure you’re not. Alright, you two, get up.”

The three boys went up to James’ room, shuffling their feet, and collapsed on the bed. Q was sandwiched between James and Alec, on his back and asleep in moments. James slid one arm under Q’s head and draped the other over him; not to be outdone, Alec somehow managed the wriggle _his_ arm underneath Q’s torso and hugged him close.

“Octopus,” James murmured. Alec fake-scowled.

Then they settled down and slept.

~

James’ alarm woke them all at 5:30. All three jerked awake, and Q sat up immediately.

“Breakfast,” he said aloud.

“Comin’,” James yawned, sitting up much more slowly. Alec grumbled and turned over on his stomach, burying his face in the pillow, his arm still slung across Q. “Alec, get up and help for once.”

“My brekfuss’ er shi’,” Alec mumbled into the pillow. “Q said.”

“Not when someone’s watching you.” James crawled over his friends and stumbled to the door, wincing as he cracked his back. “If you don’t get up we’re not having bacon.”

Alec immediately sat up and tried to slide out of bed, but the blankets got caught around his legs and he fell with an undignified thump. Q stifled a snort.

James waited in the doorway for Alec to kick free, then left the room and trotted down the stairs.

He’d just begun assembling breakfast ingredients when Q stepped into the kitchen and went straight for the fridge. James watched, amused, as Q opened the fridge, found the Coca Cola cans hidden behind the leftovers with the ease of long practice rifling through cluttered foodstores, and pulled out three.

“Milk is better for you,” James pointed out.

“Caffeine,” Q replied, as if that settled things. Maybe it did, because James didn’t feel that arguing with Q when he was obviously still half-asleep was wise. Besides, he was just so _cute_ , with his abundance of hair sticking up in the back and his eyelids still drooping and his face twisted into a scowl that would’ve been fierce if it hadn’t looked so much like a small child who’d stayed up past their bedtime. James had the ridiculous urge to hug Q.

Q seemed oblivious, padding to the table and setting the cans at equal points around the round table’s circumference. Then he shift the chairs to match those points, setting the fourth, unneeded chair in the corner. He took down plates and gathered cutlery and set the places with mathematical precision. Then he came over to stand beside James and said, “I never get hugs at home.”

James understood the question under the statement. He pulled Q into a firm one-armed hug and smiled as Q wrapped his own skinny arms around James’ waist and held on tight.

“Well, you can have as many hugs as you want here,” James murmured into that riotous dark hair.

“Hey, I thought we were gonna start breakfast,” Alec accused sleepily, shuffling into the kitchen.

“We are. Get started.”

Q unwound from James and stepped out of the way. Alec caught Q around the waist with one arm on the way past and dragged him a good few feet before James grabbed Q’s shirt and rescued him, tucking the poor boy under his arm and glaring at Alec, who pouted, but began set-up for scrambled eggs. Q looked between them, blinking owlishly.

“Why do you always steal them from me?” Alec whined, cracking eggs.

“Because you never want to let them go,” James retorted.

“True.”

Q wriggled free of James and took a seat at the table. James sighed dramatically, but got out the bacon and a frying pan and got started. Alec bumped his shoulder against James’; James nudged Alec’s elbow with his own. Sometimes people told them they were a cute couple; they both laughed at that. But sometimes, just after they had done the thing that was not cuddling, James wished they’d worked out.

But they were friends, best friends. There was no need to try for something different. They were comfortable, and that was good.

“How are you so comfortable together?” Q asked, with the faintest tinge of wistfulness. James blinked, but otherwise did not react to the echo of his own thoughts.

“Years of practice,” Alec answered over his shoulder with a grin. “How else can anyone get used to James’ silly habits?”

“You’re the reason I have so many “silly” habits,” James retorted absently, flipping bacon strips. “Like making sure you flushed after you go to the bathroom.”

“That was one time!” Alec protested.

“Once a day, you mean. For three weeks straight.”

“I told you it was the medicine.”

“I know it was.” James bumped against him in apology. “Here, test the bacon.”

They all sat down to breakfast, and worked out the order they were going to shower, and talked about what they planned to do today. Q seemed… happy. Still a little startled, but happy. James was glad for that.

While Q was taking his turn in the shower, James and Alec cleaned up.

“So.”

“Hm?”

Alec turned and leaned his hip against the counter, watching as James wiped down the stove. “Do you like him?” Alec asked bluntly.

James struggled for all of three seconds. “Yes. I do.” He grimaced and threw the dirty flannel in the sink. “Damn.”

Alec smiled, but it was sharp and humorless. “Remember what you told me?”

“Yes, that he’s a teenager and--” James stopped, and peered at Alec thoughtfully. “You like him too.”

Alec’s smile faded and he looked away, broodingly. Alec didn’t brood. Something must really be wrong. James felt a trill of alarm in his chest.

“Alec…”

“Don’t turn all mother hen on me,” Alec interrupted, turning another sharp, brittle smile on James. That one was even worse at hiding that something was off. James came forward and put his hand on Alec’s arm, but his best friend tensed--something he hadn’t done since they were children--and James pulled back. What happened to the comfortableness between them? What had changed so quickly?

“Alec, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I’ll… I’ll burn your pants,” James threatened, his stock threat from when they were young and still kept secrets. It didn’t make Alec smile like he’d hoped it would.

“He likes you too,” Alec muttered, eyes on the floor.

James almost laughed in relief. Was that all? “Alec, you bastard, he doesn’t like me the same way I like him. He’s grateful, to _both_ of us. Why would you think that?”

Alec grumbled something that didn’t quite sound like an answer. James stepped forward and hugged Alec, ignoring the moment of struggling; he was rewarded when Alec hugged back, tightly, and buried his face in James’ shoulder.

“Sometimes I hate you,” Alec grumbled.

“I know,” James replied, smirking.

“Stop smirking, you bastard.”

“I’m not smirking.”

“Liar.”

They stood there together until they heard the shower turn off. Then they unwound from each other and got back to cleaning up. James did not forget that Alec hadn’t actually answered him.

 

~

 

Q felt more comfortable here than he ever felt at home. Mostly because he didn’t feel like he had to hide anything. He almost walked out of the bathroom in just his towel before he remembered that he’d brought his clothes for the day in with him. So he dressed, humming to himself as he did so, and pattered downstairs to find his schoolbag.

 

He found it in the entry, on the small hall table. He didn’t remember putting it there. He frowned, but dismissed it as either James or Alec being nice ag--

 

Arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind, and he jumped and struggled for a moment before realizing it was just Alec. Then he relaxed, scowling over his shoulder.

 

“Don’t you make noise when you walk?” he demanded, not noticing how he automatically leaned back into Alec’s grip. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

 

“Sorry,” Alec replied cheerfully, rubbing his stubble-rough cheek against Q’s hair. “I’m used to sneaking up on James. Do you want a ride to school?”

 

Q sighed and nodded. He remembered what that girl had said, that James and Alec were polyamorous; he wondered if that meant they would be alright with…

 

What? _What?_ Why was he thinking these things? They were ridiculous. He didn’t want that. He wanted a place to stay, which was _completely_ different from wanting someone to love. It didn’t matter that James and Alec were so kind, o-or that they were funny, or even that they were easy on the eyes. They were--

 

“Q? You alright?”

 

Q slipped out of Alec’s hold and picked up his backpack. “I’m fine,” he answered, and smiled a little. “Do we _have_ to take the bike again?”

 

“We gotta get you used to it somehow.” Alec grinned, but there still seemed to be a shadow of worry on his face. Q looked away.

 

James exited the kitchen, looked between the two of them, and zeroed in on Q as the one who most needed attention. “Did you use up the hot water?” he asked, casually slinging an arm around Q’s shoulder and wrapping the other around Alec’s waist.

 

“No, not at all. There’s plenty for at least one of you.” Q managed another smile, then had to look away again, as _two_ pairs of beautiful worried eyes fixed on his face. “I’m going to be late.”

 

“No you aren’t.” Alec leaned against James for a moment, then scooped Q up from under James’ arm and half-carried the squeaking teen to the door. “I won’t let you be. See ya, Jamesy!”

 

James just laughed.

 

~

 

Alec still didn’t believe James. He still thought Q liked James.

 

But maybe Q liked Alec, too?

 

No. Not with the way he pulled back so suddenly like that. It didn’t matter that he’d leaned on Alec, the fact remained that he obviously didn’t feel the same way. Not that it mattered; Q was too young, and Alec had James. He’d always have James.

 

So while he was still displeased and slightly miserable, he did manage to keep a cheerful face on for most of the day. It was only when he kicked the motorbike into life that he wondered if Q really did hate the bike, and really didn’t want to ride it, and if he would be happier if Alec drove him in the car the next day.

 

Too late now. He sighed, put on his helmet, and zipped through the streets to Q’s school.

 

~

 

Q couldn’t help smiling a little as the roar of a motorcycle grew closer and closer, until it stopped outside the gate. The last bell rang a mere moment later, and Q hurried to pack up, not even noticing how his friends were approaching until they’d blocked him in.

 

“You’re still coming to chess tonight, right?” Amanda demanded.

 

Q’s smile faded. “Oh. I… I forgot,” he admitted.

 

His friends stared, gaping. “You _forgot_?” Barry gasped.

 

Q shrugged uncomfortably.

 

“Q, you’re the _cofounder_!”

 

“I know, I know, but--I just, I really--I need to go.”

 

And he darted past them and out the door.

 

He couldn’t help feeling miserable for blowing them all off like that. He’d never missed a meeting. Never. But he wanted to go home. He steadfastly refused to wonder when James and Alec’s house had begun to seem like a home. And as he approached the gate, he felt his face form a scowl.

 

Alec was surrounded by fellow students, all of them staring up at him with starry eyes as they asked him a million questions, most to do with who he was, why he was there, and what kind of bike he drove. He seemed amused by the attention, but Q couldn’t help a rather sour, bitter feeling that he recognized belatedly as jealousy. He didn’t like how close they were standing to Alec. He was _his_ friend, _Q’s_ friend, and they had no right to be that close to him.

 

Alec saw Q approach and his face split into a grin. Q blushed and smiled back a little. He felt better, knowing Alec was waiting for him and only him.

 

“Q! Ready to go?” Alec asked, and tossed him the extra helmet.

 

Q caught it easily. “Yes,” he answered simply, wading through his peers to climb aboard the bike. His fellow students drew back as Alec kicked the bike into life, giving Q sour looks. But he just put his arms around Alec’s waist and held on as he zoomed down the street.

 

~

 

James was home early and watching telly in his pants and a t-shirt when he heard the bike. He sighed and moved his bowl of crisps from his stomach to the coffee table.

 

Sure enough, as soon as Alec saw what James was doing, he walked right over and climbed on top of him, hugging him tightly. Q hesitated in the doorway, then very audibly muttered “Fuck it,” and crossed the room to do the same, tucking himself under Alec’s arm. James couldn’t stop a tiny smile.

 

“You’re both just heat-leeches,” he complained, but he wrapped his arm around Q and ran the fingers of his other hand through Alec’s hair. They might’ve been leeches, but they were _his_ leeches. And he didn’t mind either of them at all.

 

Alec pressed his forehead to James’ neck. “Yes, but you like us anyway,” he taunted, going absolutely boneless as James scratched behind his ear. He really was a puppy in some ways.

 

“Unfortunately,” James agreed with a sigh, rubbing his thumb against Q’s ribs. The teenager hummed a little and burrowed closer to them both. James smiled wider. “The repairwoman called, they’ll be here tomorrow morning. Alec, can you take the day off?”

 

“Sure, sure,” Alec murmured, sounding half asleep as James continued to run his fingertips through Alec’s hair. “Josey will be pissed, but it’ll be the first day I’ve taken off in, what, three years?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

“I should make a key,” Q mumbled. “So they can get in and out of mum and dad’s.”

 

“Or I’ll do it.” Alec ran his hand up Q’s spine and buried his fingers in Q’s messy hair, running through it just as James was doing to his. “Or I’ll just pick the lock.”

 

James smiled again and leaned his head back against the arm of the sofa, letting them figure it out. Maybe Alec would see that Q liked both of them equally if James just let them talk. Alec wasn’t good with talking about his feelings with anyone other than James, and the reverse was true as well; but Q was already their friend, their crush, their hug-buddy. Alec would open up to him soon enough.

 

James dozed. He woke up when Q and Alec actually tried to get up. His grip on both of them tightened automatically, and he muttered without opening his eyes, “Where do you think you’re going?”

 

“Dinner?” Q asked timidly.

 

“Some of us don’t get to snack on the job,” Alec added.

 

James groaned and let them up, then turned over on his side, back to the room, and commanded, “Wake me up when it’s done.” Then he went back to sleep.

 

~

 

Q tried to focus on making dinner, he really did. But Alec just would not stop telling jokes and relating embarrassing stories about James and basically being extremely silly, and it made Q laugh too hard to focus. He did not miss how very, very pleased Alec was every time Q laughed instead of giggling or snorting.

 

Q did miss seeing him and James interact, though. They had a smoothness, a familiarity, that Q desperately wanted to share. Maybe he’d have that with someone, someday.

 

For now, he laughed at Alec’s jokes, and tried to make grilled cheese sandwiches without burning the bread. He even let Alec wrap his arm around Q’s shoulders when Q asked if the sandwich was done enough for him or not.

 

“Looks great!” Alec grinned and Q smiled back. “You’re pretty good at this, kotyonok.”

“Oh, well, when mum and dad go to the seaside I have to fend for myself, so I learnt to make most easy things fairly early.” The reminder of his parents dampened his spirits. He slid the sandwich onto a plate and set it aside.

 

“Hey. Myshka.” Alec turned Q to face him, hands on his shoulder, face unusually serious. “You’re welcome here. No matter what your mum and dad said or did, you’re always welcome here.”

 

Q felt the stupidest urge to cry. But he didn’t. He sniffled, and shuffled closer, and wrapped his arms around Alec, hugging him tightly and letting out a low, silent breath as Alec hugged back. “Thank you,” he whispered.

 

“No problem,” Alec murmured, stroking his hair.

 

After a few minutes of just breathing in Alec’s smell--hot metal, dried sweat, something unique and sharp and pleasant--Q backed off. He did not miss the way Alec’s hands kept touching him, sliding across his shoulders and down his arms to his elbows. How could he, when Alec’s palms were so pleasantly warm, and he was smiling like he did when he looked at James--

 

Q looked down at his feet so Alec wouldn’t see his blush. So James and Alec weren’t a couple. That was fine. But the way they looked at each other was different from mere friendship. So to have such a smile turned on _him_ …

 

Maybe he could fit in here after all.

 

“Sandwiches are getting cold,” he mumbled.

 

“True.” Alec let go of him, reluctantly, Q thought. “Let’s take these out to Jamesy.”

 

~

 

Alec was glad Q had spoken before him, because he probably would have said something stupid about Q living with them forever. Q didn’t want that. He wanted a place of his own.

 

Alec was feeling a little unhappy when he and Q took the sandwiches to the sitting room, where James was still asleep. So he set his plate down on the coffee table, hauled James into a sitting position, sat down on the sofa behind him, and let James flop back in his lap. Of course James groaned and squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position. Eventually, though, he just gave in and woke up, glaring blurrily up at Alec.

 

“I will feed you to the neighbour’s dogs,” he muttered, struggling to sit up.

 

“Now, James, is that any way to talk to the man who brings you food?” Alec replied cheerfully. He helped James sit up, then pulled him into his lap. Q was still standing, watching with something akin to melancholy. That wouldn’t do. Alec and James both held out their arms. Q didn’t exactly run, but he walked over quickly, and let the two older men pull him down onto James’s lap, so his back was to Alec’s chest.

 

“My mum would murder us if she could see this,” Q commented, sounding thoughtful, and took a bite of his sandwich.

 

“Good thing she’s gone, then,” Alec replied, resisting the urge to bury his face in Q’s fluffy hair. James did not have as much self-control; he started combing Q’s hair with his fingers, trying to get it to lay flat. Q let him. Alec wondered suddenly if he were jealous of Q liking James, or James liking Q.

 

He frowned, and rested his forehead against the back of Q’s head, getting in James’ way. James immediately started combing through Alec’s hair instead.

 

“Stop frowning,” James chided Alec, “You’re the cheerful one here. _I’m_ the grump, remember?”

 

Alec did something he hadn’t done since they were sixteen and testing the waters; he leaned over and kissed James’ cheek. “You’re not grumpy, just too sensible,” Alec drawled, glad that he hadn’t blushed in years.

 

James stared at him. Then he kissed Alec’s cheek and murmured, “You’re an arse.”

 

Q continued munching stolidly, but Alec could feel a sort of tension in him. Was _he_ jealous? Of what? Of who? Alec was thoroughly confused, but slightly hopeful. Maybe James was right. Maybe Q _did_ like them both.

 

But there was no way of asking that wasn’t awkward. So Alec didn’t say anything about it.

 

~

 

Snuggled into bed with James and Alec on either side of him, Q expected to stay awake for a long time. But instead, he drifted off while they were still talking to each other, their arms holding him safely and warmly.

 

He didn’t even dream. Or, he didn’t remember if he did. When he woke, though, it was to a bed empty except for him. He frowned and got up, peering at the clock. It was five in the morning. Where were James and Alec?

 

He padded down the stairs silently and paused on the bottom step. He could hear talking.

 

“Should we ask him to stay?” That was Alec, sounding slightly nervous.

 

“I don’t know.” That was James, sounding tired. “I want him to. You?”

 

Silence. Alec must have nodded, or otherwise expressed agreement, because James said, “Right. We just have to convince him it’s worth it.”

 

“Who are you talking about?” Q blurted, moving to stand in the doorway. He had the silliest hope that they’d been talking about him. He wanted to stay. He was sure of it now. He wanted to hug and cuddle and watch stupid tv shows with them and sleep in their bed and share their clothes and--and--

 

Alec and James looked a little uncomfortable. Then James clasped his hands, leaned forward, and fixed Q with his most charming smile.

 

“You, actually,” he admitted. Alec stared at him, alarmed. “There’s no point lying, Alec. Q, how’d you like to be our roommate? You’d have to help with bills, but--”

 

Q walked over, circled the table, stood between the two older men, and abruptly wrapped a skinny arm around each of their shoulders. They immediately scooted closer and put _their_ arms around him.

 

“I would love to stay,” he said, trying to infuse as much sincerity in his voice as possible. He thought he managed, with the way they both beamed up at him.

  
“Right!” Alec stood, and hugged Q, hard and brief. “My turn to cook breakfast!”


End file.
